Work Text:
“Nick, clear off your couch! Steel Samurai rewatch marathon tonight, your place– be there, ‘cause I will!”
Phoenix cradled the office phone to his ear. It was unlike Maya to call the Wright Anything Agency directly when it was fully within her many powers to blow up his cell instead. …Not that she hadn’t tried.
Not that he was ignoring her! Just, it was 3pm on a Friday afternoon. “Nick, yo, Nick!”, “call me!!!”, “niiiiiick”, and three missed calls (no voicemail) was, if anything, a bit light for the day. He was wrapping up some final case notes and would’ve called her back within the hour. The same way he ended every week, the same way she ended every week.
An office call was odd.
He could ask how she was doing. He could ask if everything was alright. From the strained smile he could hear emanating through the staticky handset speaker, he didn’t think that line of questioning would get him far. She could be a stubborn witness. “Aren’t you in Kurain?” he tried instead.
“Uh, yeah, where else? I’ll be in LA by dinner though, lucky you! You’ve got Friday night plans with a stunning lady now.”
Alright. Yeah. Phoenix didn’t need a magatama to know she was hiding something. Whatever it was, she wasn’t exactly lying to him though… He put his hand over the receiver and glanced toward Athena’s desk. She was steadfastly buried in her laptop, pretending not to listen. Like Phoenix hadn’t just raised one overly observant teenaged girl. He raised his eyebrows at her. She shrugged.
‘Client?’ she mouthed.
Phoenix shook his head. He pulled lightly at the knot of his tie, right where Widget would be on her neck, and did something complicated with his eyebrows. He hoped the combo communicated, ‘Emotional discord?’
Athena brightened up like a cheery songbird at being asked. She scooted her wheely office chair over with a flourish as he switched the call to speaker.
“...Nick?” Maya said. “Cat got your tongue? I don’t care how much brooding you have to reschedule to make it happen, I’m coming down!”
Athena’s eyes widened, and she stretched her arms out, doing a shaky little jazz hands at either end. Lot of discord then. Got it.
“Or…” Maya said, tone turning sly, “didja already have plans with someone else?”
“N-no,” Phoenix frantically shooed Athena back to her desk, jammed the receiver to his ear, and retoggled over to private call. “Nothing concrete anyway.”
Athena’s arms spread impossibly wider, and she grinned at him. Who let this kid in here?
“Edgeworth loves Steel Samurai, you know,” Maya continued out of nowhere, really, barely related to the conversation. Her train of thought was mysterious, unknowable. “Invite him, too!”
“He’s– probably busy,” Phoenix said, fidgeting with a pen. “Or, I don’t know. He hates last minute plans.”
“Already texted him,” Maya said, “he’s in!”
Phoenix felt his stomach do an acrobatic little flip. It could have been for any number of reasons, and he took inventory of the options:
One: Edgeworth texting Maya back immediately. When’d that start? Wasn’t he working? Phoenix had called him earlier (with a legitimate business question, thank you) and gotten redirected to voicemail, so what gives?
Two: Maya showing up on his doorstep with no notice, like she was fleeing Kurain. Kind of a big, obvious deal. Probably should’ve been first on the list, huh? (She also had no plan, but that at least was typical Maya).
Three, most selfishly: He wanted to see them. Up until a few minutes ago, Phoenix had been sizing up an empty apartment, some microwave chicken, and thinking about (but just thinking about) finally tidying up the magical knick-knacks spread across every surface of his home. Trucy was weeks into her summer tour, somewhere deep in Europe now, the time zone difference too much for anything but quick morning calls hello/goodnight. That he might spend the lonely evening surrounded by two of his favorite people instead…
It was appealing.
He looked down at the files spread across his desk. The text blurred together into nonsense as he read and reread entire lines, retaining nothing. Did he have enough drinks at home? Should he get changed? It’d be ridiculous to have movie night in his work clothes, but also he might’ve skipped laundry day, might’ve been down to his last pair of mismatched socks… No, no harm calling it an early one. With Edgeworth and Maya mere hours away, he'd never be able to focus on anything else.
He cradled the phone against his shoulder. “When do you get to the station?”
“Six!” Maya said, genuine joy finally breaking through. “Can we get noodles? I am so craving food truck noodles.”
“Yeah, alright, you bottomless pit. I didn’t like having money anyway.” Phoenix smiled, too fond, despite Athena’s waggling eyebrows. “See you in a bit.”
And then, after the faint click of the line, after the silent pressure against his ear made it clear that she was gone, Phoenix cleared his throat. “C’mon, Athena. Stop psychoanalyzing me in my own office.”
“No can do, Mr. Wright!”
He wrinkled his nose (a habit he wasn’t sure if he’d given Trucy or Trucy had given him) and channeled his sternest inner prosecutor. “I’ll– I’ll dock your pay!”
“Nah,” Athena said, still laughing at him. “You’re in too good a mood.”
–
“It’s so easy, Nick,” Maya says, shoving her phone into his hands. “Even you can do this. Just turn on the TV, open the app, pick ‘Steel Samurai: Platinum Reboot,’ and we’re golden!”
Phoenix scowled down at the device. He really, truly didn’t see why, if it was so easy, she couldn’t put the damned show on. He barely knew how to change the batteries in the television remote, and life was blissful for it. He’d watched Maya’s eyes glaze over for hours scrolling through her timeline. He’d seen Edgeworth go apoplectic over the most innocuous of comments. (‘There are rules to the subforum, Wright. Asserting that the Jammin’ Ninja could defeat the Evil Magistrate in a fight– and with no further context or analysis!– breaks all of them.’)
What good had technology ever done for anyone?
He half-heartedly fiddled with the stupid icons. (‘That’s… a dictionary, Nick? Didn’t even know I had that. Try again!’) More of his attention was spent on not-too-obviously watching, with increasing concern, the Maya situation unfolding next to him. If he didn’t look, she sounded perfectly cheerful. But he did look, of course he did, and what he saw was her sitting there just… idly pushing her noodles about, picking up and putting down the takeout container, somehow not inhaling the very last fleck of every last carb. They’d gotten back to his apartment almost a full hour ago. She’d hardly touched her food.
Phoenix bit his lip, furrowed his eyebrows, and stopped pretending. He let his hand fall across his lap, phone loose in his grip. “Maya–”
A knock on the door interrupted whatever brilliant heart-to-heart he might’ve conjured up. Maya sprang to life, leaping over the back of the couch like she wasn’t almost thirty years old. “I’ll get it! You keep working on the TV. I believe in you!” Her meal (long gone cold) sat abandoned on the edge of the coffee table.
Phoenix did not keep working on the TV. He watched Maya scramble to undo the deadbolt and fling open his apartment door. “Edgeworth!” she shouted. (At least it’d been a few weeks since his neighbors’ last noise complaint.)
“Ms. Fey,” Edgeworth said, bowing his head, “a pleasure.” And, wow, he meant it. Even from his spying distance, Phoenix could see Edgeworth’s mouth quirk up at the sides. On anyone else that’d be full blown beaming. How come it was never a pleasure to see Phoenix? It was always, Not Now, Wright or In My Office Again, Wright? or We’d Have More Time For Lunch If You Hadn’t Insisted The Elephant’s Artwork Counted As Testimony, Wright.
As if he could hear Phoenix’s accusatory internal monologue, Edgeworth’s secret smile fell away, fast as a judge’s gavel: guilty. He peered cautiously into the apartment like a wild deer about to bolt. “I… am I the first to arrive?”
“First and last!” Maya jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Nick’s over there trying to get the streaming app set up, if you want to save him from himself.”
Phoenix gave a sheepish wave over the back of the couch.
“My apologies.” Edgeworth stiffened up, all formality in his posture now (as much as he could muster encumbered as he was by two overstuffed tote bags covered in cheery cartoon paw prints). “I had not realized this was an intimate gathering. I fear I misunderstood what you meant by ‘Guess who’s in town, bitch,’ and ‘Watch party at Nick’s tonight!’ You were merely sharing your excitement. I feel foolish and shall take my leave.”
Maya tugged at the cuffs of his sleeves. “You were invited over, you big dumb vampire! Get on in here.” She peered into his reusable shopping bags. “Is that ice cream?”
“...And wine.”
“Hell yeah!”
With that, Maya shuffled Edgeworth in, shoved him toward Phoenix, and absconded with his snacks gleefully into the kitchen.
Phoenix turned back to his task, scowling down at the damn smartphone. He could get it to work. Probably! Maybe. If he tried. He felt Edgeworth lean down, solid and knowing, over his shoulder. “You need to select the application,” he said, voice amused and close to Phoenix’s ear.
“I know that!” Why’d his heart rate have to pick up like he’d just presented the wrong evidence in court? It wasn’t his fault the app icons were so tiny and so confusing. He twisted around. “It’s hard to concentrate with– with you hovering.”
“Give it here then,” Edgeworth said, reaching down into Phoenix’s space and across his chest to grab at Maya’s phone. He did not pull it from Phoenix’s hands, instead letting his fingers rest there, warm and sure.
“O-okay!” Phoenix said, frantically releasing the phone, wedging his hands in tight beneath his arms. He glanced guiltily toward the kitchen. “If it works now, it’s only because I already figured out the hard part.”
“Wright,” and at that admonishment the television screen lit up cheerfully with a familiar menu of shows, “there were, perhaps, three clicks.”
Phoenix grumbled into his collar. “Three left maybe.”
“No,” Edgeworth said, warmly. He’d stepped around to the front side of the sofa, leaning forward to adjust the volume settings on the TV. A preview for some period drama autoplayed in the background. “Which episode did Maya want to start with?”
“Uh,” Phoenix said, “Platinum something? I think just from the top.”
“The Steel Samurai: Platinum Reboot?” There was odd, sudden seriousness to his voice. In Phoenix’s joy at having his two favorite people over, he’d forgotten they were also the two biggest nerds. “Are you familiar with the backstory?”
“Enough, I guess.”
“The concept is a reimagining of a pivotal moment in the original series. What if, this version speculates, the Steel Samurai had listened to the Pink Princess in the moments leading up to ‘The Fall: Part 1?’ What if they and the Evil Magistrate had formed a tenuous alliance? What could the trio accomplish together?
“For what I assume is a comfort watch, it’s not your traditional choice. Then again, Maya Fey never could be predicted.”
“Has she said anything to you?” Phoenix asked in a low, urgent whisper. His eyes flitted toward the kitchen once again, and he felt his face flush in guilt that he hadn’t asked about this first, that he’d spent these precious moments out of earshot talking about cartoons. He got to his feet, eyes wide, moving in close to Edgeworth so that his voice wouldn’t carry. “I think something’s going on. I’m worried about her.”
Edgeworth straightened up, crossed and uncrossed his arms. He set Maya’s phone down on the coffee table, next to her lukewarm dinner. “I admit the– how would she say– ‘vibes’ are off. Though I’m surprised you’d need to ask me when the two of you are so close.”
As if sensing the gossip (if not the drama), Maya ambled back into the room, kicking a path through the magic trinkets on the floor and tenuously balancing three mismatched cups in her arms. One was pinned precariously to her side by an elbow and threatened to slosh over.
“Oh!” Edgeworth clasped one hand to his chest. “The vintage red is… it’s really meant to breathe. And in something that isn’t–” and here again he made a choked little gasp. “Is that plastic?”
“Yeah, in case I dropped anything,” Maya said with a theatrical wink. “Safety first!”
“Let me help you,” he gritted out, grabbing the brightly-colored cups. He held them out as far as he could from his body, with all the air of a man transporting toxic sludge. “Please, Phoenix. Tell me you still have the decanter from last Christmas.”
“Uh, cabinet above the fridge, maybe? Not the one with Trucy’s props. It’ll, uh, probably still be in its box.”
“Hmph,” Edgeworth said, voice trailing off as he disappeared around the corner, “you can lead a horse to water…” Clatters, bangs, and mysterious clinking emanated from the kitchen. (Was it actually possible to find anything in there? Godspeed.)
Maya flopped bonelessly over the edge of the armrest, bangs fanning out onto the cushion. Big eyes stared upside-down at Phoenix. “Sooo… you two getting cozy out here?”
“Ha!” Phoenix said, far too loud. “Hah, ha. Um. I don’t know what you mean.”
Instead of explaining, she kicked her feet and sighed up at the ceiling. One arm draped to the floor, her knuckles grazing the carpet, as if she’d forgotten how couches worked.
Phoenix sank down onto the cushions next to her. His fingers brushed idly atop the long, soft strands of her hair. “What’s up with you today?”
“You should tell him how you feel.”
Phoenix jumped back to his feet. “Wh-what?!” He caught himself and lowered his voice, just as he had when speaking to Edgeworth before. He glanced apprehensively toward the kitchen doorway. “That’s not what I was talking about, but maybe keep your voice down?”
Maya grinned, devious, up at him, though it did not quite reach her eyes. “You’re in your thirties, old man. You’re right, we shouldn’t be whispering under your crush’s nose. Because,” her voice began to crescendo, “you should be old enough–” she winked again “–to talk about your feelings!”
A resounding thump echoed from the other room. Phoenix might have broken out into a cold sweat, but he wouldn’t know, couldn’t feel it. His spirit had fully left his body. “I– You– What–”
“C’mon,” Maya said, pulling herself upright. She grabbed a throw pillow and tugged it to her chest. “Don’t play dumb.”
Phoenix frowned down at her. He looked to the cold noodles on the coffee table, back to her forced smile. His stomach sank to the floor. Is… this why she’d been so upset? His fingers burned where Edgeworth’s had brushed them earlier. The television audio stuttered in the background, restarted its loop.
“Look, Maya. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you don’t have to worry. You’re so important to me. Both of you. Nothing’s going on with me and Edgeworth.” He took a deep breath, ran his hands through his hair. “I decided a long time ago I couldn’t choose.”
“Ugh!” Maya threw the pillow at him. “That’s exactly the problem! You don’t have to choose, Nick. You don’t have to follow some– some tradition! What, just because a bunch of stuffy old windbags decided what was important a billion years ago? So now you have to do what they say to ‘be a good role model?’ Why should you have to get married and have babies and stay in the same village forever? You’re the one in charge! Shape your own future!”
Oh. That’s–
Poor Maya. She gasped for air like she’d been forced to not just run, but finish a marathon. Tentatively, Phoenix reached out and placed his hands on her heaving shoulders. She was shaking. “Is this… um. Is this really about me and Edgeworth?”
“Kind of!” She crumpled into herself. “The nuns have been on my case again about my ‘future.’ Well, it’s not really mine, is it? ‘Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique’ for a hot minute, and they already want to know who’s next. What if I don’t want that?”
“Maya–”
She bowed her head, leaning to one side to press against Phoenix’s knuckles. “I don’t have regrets. This position is my heritage. We’ll always have to spend so much time apart. But maybe that’s okay. What if I like what we have?”
Phoenix’s stomach somersaulted. This time there were only two, simple reasons, and he knew them both. “...What do we have?”
“Each other, dummy.” She flung her body forward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “And that includes your favorite prosecutor, don’t deny it.”
He didn’t– he didn’t didn’t know what to do with his hands. He left them on her shoulders, let one slip down to rub cautious circles on her back, let one creep up to cradle her head.
“Look,” she continued, “you need each other, and I need you.” She pulled back enough to blink watery eyes up at him, though her voice was steady. “It’d be so, so much easier to shape myself around Kurain. I know that, but… it’s time to do things my way. So I need you two to get over yourselves and kiss, or subpoena each other, or whatever it is lawyers do when they’re in love!”
“Ahem,” Edgeworth stood in the threshold to the room, rigidly holding out the decanter alongside a tray of three (proper) glasses. His expression was unreadable, glasses reflecting the trailer looping on the TV and hiding his eyes. It gave him a plausible explanation for the pink dusting his cheeks: just a trick of the light. “...I’ve brought the wine.”
Phoenix startled, instinctively tried to take a step back, but Maya held him tight. She smiled at Edgeworth. “Perfect,” she said, slowly dropping her hands to pull herself upright by Phoenix’s hips. “But where’s my ice cream?”
“Intended for later,” Edgeworth said. “The sweetness hardly pairs with the bite of the particular vintage we’ve opened.”
“Lotta words there, Edgy. What if Nick here wants ‘em both?”
A heavy pause settled between them. Phoenix looked to Edgeworth, looked to Maya, and felt a deep kinship with every defendant who had ever taken the stand, awaiting their fate. Hoping and pleading and praying for a verdict, it never mattered. Only the truth would come out.
Almost imperceptibly, the tension in Edgeworth’s shoulders fell away, a little wobble in the wine glasses the only tell. He joined them again in the living room, setting the tray and wine on the coffee table. He pressed a glass into each of their hands. “Should he want them both…” he said, finally. “…Then he can have them. Of course.”
Edgeworth raised his own glass into the air, cheersed toward Maya with something like a smile. “Even if he does have questionable tastes.”
“Hey!” she said, but she was laughing. “I’m having a moment here!”
Phoenix took a deep breath, hadn’t realized he’d stopped breathing. He drank half his glass in one, deep swig (in part to hear Edgeworth’s sputtered protests) and sank deep down into the cushions. This time, he intended to stay put. He was comfortable.
After a moment, Edgeworth sat next to him, though he left a careful, measured distance between their sides and shoulders. The two of them watched in silent horror as Maya rediscovered her now-ancient noodles and (with a terrible, joyous cry of “Bonus dinner!”) put them into her mouth instead of the garbage can.
Seemingly without leaving the room, she materialized a large sundae and scarfed it down. Bowl in hand, she flopped down dramatically between them. Phoenix startled at the sudden dip in the cushions. His arms flew up and out (nearly sending the ice cream flying in the process) before landing along the back of the couch.
His thumb brushed up against Edgeworth’s shoulder, making his breath catch in his chest and his face burn. They hadn’t talked about anything yet, not really. He didn’t even know for sure how much of his and Maya’s conversation Edgeworth had overheard. Though perhaps, more than anything, Phoenix was mortified at the impression he might be trying pull some ‘Oh-Ho-Ho, Is My Arm Around Your Shoulder? I Didn’t Even Notice’ Butz-tier move.
Remarkably, Edgeworth didn’t shrug him off or fidget away.
Unbelievably, he settled into the touch. He let his head rest against Phoenix’s forearm.
Maya stretched out, gracelessly sprawling her legs across Edgeworth’s lap and pressing her back into Phoenix’s chest. She let her head fall backwards and peered up at him, all big mischievous eyes. “Your five o’clock shadow,” she marveled, tracing the stubble on his jaw with the tips of her fingers, “it’s graying!”
“H-hey!”
Edgeworth watched them sidelong, that telling quirk back again in his lips. “When you’re done preening, Wright, would you pass me the remote? This gathering did have an agenda.”
Good lord. Did Phoenix give them permission to team up? Were they going to team up on him now? “You’re both terrors,” he said, but stretched out to grab Maya’s phone and pass it along. His fingers brushed Edgeworth’s in the exchange, and his face burned even brighter. Maybe he was a hopeless middle-schooler.
Edgeworth switched the phone to his other hand in a feat of dexterity that’d make Trucy proud. He let his other linger on Phoenix’s, fingers tangled and resting lightly on Maya’s hip.
She sighed and snuggled further into them. “Press play!”
There’d be plenty of time to worry about what came next. Maya was right. Right now, they had each other, and Phoenix liked that. He liked having Edgeworth and Maya at his side, each holding different pieces of his heart. He liked that they bonded over this stupid cartoon. He liked that no one ever made him choose.
“Yeah,” he said, “let’s start."